


Brought to Life

by Jessica_Bones_Winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessica_Bones_Winchester/pseuds/Jessica_Bones_Winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mimi gets an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brought to Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mimi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimi/gifts), [deansdirtylittlesecretsblog](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=deansdirtylittlesecretsblog).



Mimi sat cross-legged on her bed. With her elbow on her knee, she held her head in her hand, staring at the blank word document on her laptop. The words just would not come to her. She knew what she wanted to say. She knew her basic plotline. She knew her main character, Dean Winchester, almost better than she knew herself. Still, the page had been blank for half an hour. She lowered her head, covered her face with both hands, and let out a frustrated sigh.

She focused on his face in her mind. Dean Winchester. Green eyes and long lashes. Eye crinkles that always accompanied that megawatt smile. She tried to picture him in the scene she was trying to write.

"Focus, focus, focus..." she mumbled to herself.

She was pulled from her thoughts when a firm hand squeezed her shoulder. She screamed and moved quickly from the bed, away from the intruder, then stared at the man on the other side. Dean Winchester, with his hands held up in surrender, stared back at her.

"What the hell," Mimi shouted. As the realization hit her that this was her favorite television character before her, she calmed, only to begin to worry about her sanity. "You're not real. You can't be real."

"I'm real... you make me real," he said. He lowered his hands and took cautious steps around the bed, toward her. "You've written lots of stories about me."

"I have."

"I've lived them all. I have no choice. I'm Dean... When you write me in a story, I live it."

"That's crazy."

"Is it?"

"Well, I'm not writing this."

"No, but someone is. And now I get to be real here, with you." Dean smirked. "You've got a high opinion of me in certain areas," he said as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "I'm flattered. I really am. But a writer can always benefit from first-hand experience, right?"

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting," Mimi asked. He certainly felt real.

"Sweetheart," he said as his hand slipped behind her head, "I'm not suggesting."

His lips captured hers in a soft, but passionate kiss. With one more brief thought that she was losing her mind, Mimi gave in and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Dean backed her toward the bed, then lay her down. He stood to move her laptop, still open to the blank page, onto her dresser, then he made his way back to her lips, dragging his hand up her leg to her hip as they kissed. He took his time removing her clothes, kissing all the newly revealed skin. She did the same for him, until they were both naked. He found his place on top of her and groaned as their bodies joined together. Mimi gasped, and Dean stilled, kissing her neck.

"Does that feel real," Dean asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

Dean began to move again. Hands roamed, lips traveled, pushing them both to the peak before Dean rolled onto his back and pulled Mimi close against his side. He kissed her forehead, pulling a contented sigh from her, and she fell asleep in his arms.

Several hours later she awoke to a dark room. The only light came from her open laptop, which should have gone into sleep mode long before. She stood, and her nakedness brought back flashes of her night with Dean. Dean Winchester. It had to have been a dream, but all the evidence so far pointed to it being real. She found her pajamas on the floor and put them on, then she walked to her dresser. The blank page on her laptop was no longer blank. Her pulse quickened when she read what was there.

"Thanks. DW."


End file.
